The moment the name came out of Jacob’s mouth, Mitch was moving toward the door.
I jump up too. “Mitchell,” I try to call out to him, but I can tell he’s too far gone to listen to reason.
He’s at my front door in no time. At this point, we are all out of our seats.
“AJ, watch the boys,” I say as I make my way to the door.
“Is Uncle Mitch going to be okay?” Cameron asks, his voice right behind me.
“I don’t want my dad to get in trouble,” Jacob cries. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
I stop and spin around to face the worried faces behind me.
“Jacob, you did the right thing. And I’m so proud of you. That was very brave.”
Jacob nods his head and wipes at his eyes. I knew he was nervous and scared and was probably thinking he had done something wrong.
“Now, everything will be alright,” I lie effortlessly.
I make eye contact with my oldest child. Without saying one word to him, I expressed that I needed him to watch his brother and comfort his god-brother.
AJ tucks his chin to his chest briefly at me. “Come on, guys. Let’s go into my room and play Madden.”
No matter how upset the boys are, they will never pass up an opportunity to play video games with AJ. Like little ducks, the two boys turn and walk out of the living room.
“I got them,” AJ says. “Take care of Uncle Mitch.”
I offer my son a weak smile before I head out of the house, hoping I’m not too late. I caught Mitch coming out of his house and heading to the truck.
“Mitchell,” I call out as I run across the yard to him. I tried to grab his arm, but he tugged away from me.
“Go back into the house, Ella.” His voice is too calm.
Mitch is never really a loud, angry guy, but this is too calm. I know he’s mad. Hell, he should be yelling. There should be agrowl in his tone. That would be understandable. But this even-headed calmness makes me nervous.
“Mitchell, think about this.”
He spins around to look at me. I take a step back. There is something in his eyes, something in the way that the blue has turned so dark you can barely tell they are blue.
“Go back into the house.”
Even though I’m a little terrified, I don’t budge. “No. I’m coming with you.”
Everything in my bones is telling me that if I go back into that house, I will never see my man free again. My gut is screaming at me to get my ass in that truck.
Mitch doesn’t complain. He opened his truck door and climbed in. I rush around to the passenger side and jump in.
The ride over to Val’s is quiet. I steal glances at Mitch, hoping to see the anger. However, all I see is that terrifying calmness.
When we pull into the driveway, Mitch parks the car but doesn’t turn it off. He’s out before I can even say anything. I hop out too. My shorter legs have a hard time catching up to his.
He’s at the front door knocking before I make it up the stairs. By the time I get there, the door opens and a tall white man with a baseball cap opens the door.
“What are you—” his words are cut short when Mitch’s fist flies into his face.
The hit was so hard it sounded like a basketball hitting concrete. The man stumbles back, but he doesn’t have time to fight back or protect himself. Mitch pounces on him. One blow after another. I followed them inside the house, not sure what else to do.
Val comes running into the living room, screaming.
